


We Used To Talk Every Night

by Rocketman23



Series: Cuphead Prompts [11]
Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Cuphead made a bad choice, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 02:12:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15329427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocketman23/pseuds/Rocketman23
Summary: Mugman reminisces about his late night conversation with Cuphead over the years.





	We Used To Talk Every Night

We used to talk every night, under starry lit skies where stray clouds wandered from near and far. The moon outside our window a keen listener as we bickered to and fro, shining an adamant light through the fluttering of our curtains. Gentle traces of the forest filled the shared room, smelling of pine and earth.

In the summer more potent fragrances of flowers would haze the air and cause the two of us to break into sneezes. It was funny how your nose wrinkled up after sneezing and even more so when you would you blush and yell at me for giggling. Even through our sleepy conversations during those sweltering months, you would jest that bugs would creep through the window and lay eggs in my head. I could never sleep after you said that but you always stayed up late with me, promising that no bug would get within reach of me. Always you were a hero, swearing brave declarations to protect me against nightly fiends and when that spider had landed on your bedsheets? Oh how you screamed and ran to my side! We slept in the same bed for weeks until Elder Kettle made doubly sure that no more spiders were in the room. But the best of those summer months was watching as the sun lazily descended in the sky, painting our room in a golden glow. 

The autumn months I didn’t like very much and I think that was mostly due to the onslaught of rain. The days grew shorter and it felt like we had less time to talk, though we never talked of much really. You loved the smell of rain and would throw a fit should Elder Kettle or me close the window, the chill night air causing a series of colds one after the other. It was worthwhile though, the serene look on your face as droplets of rain cascaded down our window made a sort of lullaby and often it cut our conversations short. 

Winter months were always ones we would talk most though and maybe that’s because we had so little to do. Our minds would run amok making up ridiculous stories of adventuring beyond the isles and beyond Elder Kettles watchful gaze. We would travel far, you had said, and find enchanted swords and mythical beings and slay them. Looking back now, you always had a bit more of a violent tendency than me. We would plan for our next snow masterpiece too, during clouded nights where the sky was heavy with the burden of snow. We could make a snowman twice our size! Or even make an Elder Kettle life sized snow man. We giggled endlessly at the thought of his surprise.

Spring months were always filled with excitement, well, more so than any other time of the year. It meant new adventures and going out into the forest. We would talk long into the morning of what we would do, what faces we would see and what havoc we could wrought (those conversation often found me being the voice of reason and that we couldn’t replace Beppi’s animated dog balloons with fake, regular ones. You insisted he would be fine after finding out we hadn’t popped his dog with a needle. Beppi severely disagreed the next day). As always we thought no different of the cool day. 

We thought no different when travelling to isle 3 to see if any new faces had appeared and you thought no different when you had pleaded to travel up that rocky mountain and into a gorgeously lit casino. 

I had, and I should have spoken up about it but I never did.

We came back to our shared bedroom one last night before our conquest for contracts. We didn’t speak. Only the sound of crickets and the hoot of an owl were the noises we shared. I never hated you for what you did, not really but disappointment has an odd way of shaping your view on things. Once you were a hero to me, brave and daring, you never backed down from a challenge and always stood up for what you believed in. then it became apparent that you were just as much a small child as I was in those days, your bravado brought on by the innocence of youth. You fumbled through life with joy and an unending pep to your step and never did you think your actions could have such deadly consequences.

I often find myself asking if that’s why you did it. And it’s a fruitless effort I know for no one hears my voice in the dead of night and answers with a sarcastic but amiable reply. 

And often, I find myself gazing out at the moon on a clear night and ask whether you loved me at all. For your actions always contradicted themselves, shoving me out of the way of danger because you felt I could not handle the attack or because you didn’t want me hurt? You often complained when we were small that I was weak. Did you think that still when fought for our lives side by side. 

So what then, of your sacrifice? Was it to protect me or to get away from me?

So many questions I ask of no one and anyone and never, not even for a split second, do I get a reply.

We used to talk every night, about so many things that meant everything and nothing to us.

About our adventures. 

About our pranks.

And about our fears. 

And now, we don’t talk at all. 

It’s been a year now, for every night I have sat on this lone bed and ushered tear drowned words to the moon, even as the sun rises and begins a new day I still talk. Hoping that one day, you might reply.

**Author's Note:**

> heya!  
> if you liked this fic please leave a kudos and comment below!


End file.
